Chapter Text
Harry tried his best to settle into this new life.
Okay, so maybe after that night at Malfoy Manor, he broke into Godrics Hollow, planning to live there, especially since nobody inhabited the place anyways.
Maybe, the property belonged to his relatives, but nobody had come to check the clear breaking and entering, especially since Harry had disabled any wards that had magical links to any of the Potters who were alive in this time.
It might have also been to ensure that if he was to change anything about the future, it would be that Godrics Hollow was not the place his parents died, or maybe they wouldn’t have to die anymore due to Harry’s impact on the timeline already.
He didn’t care, but he did like the feeling that he was connecting to something lost to him, something he had never gotten to experience when he was growing up. True connection to his parents.
And although they were yet to be born, likely on the way in the next decade, Harry still felt like they had been here, like they had left some form of mark, even if unseen by the naked eye.
This endeavor though, had made Harry realise something.
His transfiguration work was shabby. Worse then he thought, especially with his E on the owl. But having to transfigure many, many objects to sustain some form of actual living space for now, his transfiguration got better over time due to it, so there was that in development for him and his new life.
As he settled, life seemed simple, something he had never come to label life as, especially in the last few years.
Having to face death, or near death experiences. Watching your friends sacrifice themselves, just so he could keep living. Becoming too tired to go on anymore. That’s what life had been to Harry, but life as of now was nothing like that. Sure, a young Tom Riddle lingered in the world around him, soon enough to become a super dark lord, but the man wasn’t after Harry, and that’s all that mattered right now as he recovered.
Maybe, when James and Lily got married, and inevitably Harry was born, then maybe Harry would grow worried about his protection from Tom Riddle, or Voldemort at that point. Or maybe Voldemort wouldn’t come to exist in this timeline.
Harry yawned, stretching his arms out as he walked down the steps, and into his freshened kitchen, magic radiating off the walls like it never had before. It was nice getting to stretch his magic, he hadn’t been able to do that on the run, knowing that any trace of his magic could get him and his friends killed.
But even after never doing such, not having been able to use magic for who knows how long, they still died in the end, so Harry gave himself the grace to coat his home in his own magic like he never had before. It was like stretching a muscle that had been contracted for so long that it hurt at first, but only at first, because after that, it felt so much better to have it spread rather than tight and contained.
He moved about the kitchen, preparing to make some breakfast for himself, before a knock at the door startled him.
Godrics Hollow was a small community, and while yes, Harry hadn’t gotten around to introducing himself yet, he didn’t expect a neighbor to come knocking at 5 in the morning, the typical time Harry’s body was adjusted to waking up after so many years of doing it on the run.
He simply brushed it aside, maybe a bird flew into his door by mistake, Harry didn’t blame nature for simply trying. So he went back to his cooking, pulling fresh eggs out, along with thick strips of bacon, but soon enough another knock sounded.
Okay, so maybe Harry felt a bit bad now knowing that it wasn’t coincidental. He let out a sigh, putting a statis charm on his cooking so as to not burn it before walking over to the door, opening it only to sorely regret not ignoring the knocking calls.
Tom Riddle stood there once more.
“Hello Charlus,” Tom greeted, although they both knew well enough now that such a name did not belong to Harry. “Quite the lovely morning here,” He stated, a smile quirking onto his lips as his eyes sharpened in on Harry, “Although I would say it seems lovelier inside this little abode you are inhabiting.”
Harry wasn’t sure if Tom was intending to come off as snotty, but that was how he felt it coming off as. Almost even patronizing, if he could say that. “What do you want,” Harry stated, unseeing the need of Tom Riddle being here.
They both knew that the cat was out of the bag. Charlus was not Harry, and Harry had been at the Malfoy gala, not Charlus. So the acts could drop.
“My, my, you have quite the attitude for someone whose presence was unneeded, and unwanted,” Tom spoke, glancing around the inside of Harry’s house, as if wanting to have more of a clue of this mystery man he was speaking to.
“Well, no one requested for you to track me down,” Harry retorted, as Tom Riddle could have lived on without needing to search for Harry. He could have lived on knowing this random person had hid themselves under the title of Charlus. The most that would come out of it would be a passing thought, before dropping it.
Tom hummed, his eyes meeting with Harry’s, and he felt the invasion of legimency once more, a presence pushing against his forehead. Harry’s mouth formed into a frown, and he pushed Tom out with much more force than last time, placing up steel walls to prevent him from trying again.
“Quite the magic you have there, very dark for such a light person,” Tom remarked, being able to feel it through the short bond that had sparked just a moment prior, even if it had been Harry forcing Tom out. “Very unlike Charlus.”
Harry glared at Tom, trying to restrain himself, not needing to provoke this dark lord in the making as nothing would come out of it other than unneeded damage. “What do you want, Tom,” Harry stated once more, his temper much shorter than he once remembered, but he wasn’t sure if it was just bound to happen, or this was how much he grew angered with any version of Voldemort.
“It’s quite simple actually,” Tom replied, taking a step closer to Harry, right on the cusp of entering the home, just toeing the line. “I want to know who you truly are.”
Harry's face tightened, his wrist ready to snap his wand out of the holster on his forearm in a second. “And why would I tell you that?” Harry remarked, quirking his brow up in succession to Tom’s beckoning. He had nothing to give the man, and it was the same in return.
“I’ll have you know I’m a very powerful man,” Tom stated, craning his head down, with his lanky height, to meet Harry on a more appropriate eye level. “And someone you do not want to cross.”
“So I think it would be in your best interest if you worked with me, instead of trying to resist me,” Tom beckoned, pointing a sharp finger into Harry’s chest, and unlike how it had been when Draco had done the same thing. Instead of calm, his heart was beating, and quite fast.
Harry smacked Tom’s hand away, over this little show the man was putting on. It was easy to tell Tom was able to intimidate people quite easily, and the man knew it, using it to his advantage. He likely manipulated people with his flawless use of intimidation to get them to do what he wanted. But Harry wasn’t one to bend and snap under pressure.
“I don’t understand the meaning of this,” Harry stated, feigning ignorance to this situation, knowing that this was the best choice of path he had at the moment. Tom hummed, standing back up to his full height, his eyes still pinned onto Harry, although he could see the annoyance bleeding through his dark brown, almost crimson, colored eyes. “I think we both know you are being ignorant as of now.”
Harry lips drew into a taught line, biting his tongue. Of course playing dumb wasn’t going to work, and Harry knew that, but he didn’t need to unnecessarily feed information to Tom. He wanted to know what the man figured out on his own. “And why do you say that?” Harry beckoned, tilting his head in question.
“You’re much smarter than that.” Tom gave, his words being a weird twisted compliment only someone like Tom could say. “You were able to seamlessly blend into a pureblood party as a member of quite a distinct family,” He spoke, giving Harry a once over, taking in how he looked, “And I can tell this is your natural appearance, no potions or magical spells needed to enhance it,” He added, locking eyes with Harry again, although not trying to pry inside any more. “Though your eyes are much more lively than they had been that night.”
Harry tried not to react when Tom spoke, trying not to play into his hand. He knew he hadn’t used spells to change his appearance, but he had played off looking like Charlus Potter quite well, now knowing he looked like his ancestor, but it was useless now with his identity being found to not be the other man. His eyes were one of the only things that could give him away.
Over time on the run, his eyes had lost their vibrancy. He wasn’t sure how, but the electric green killing curse color they once were had turned into a muddied color, much more darker. Maybe it was magically related, having barely used any part of his magic before now, the color of his eyes changing back to their usual color now with how freely his magic had spread.
“So?” Harry shrugged, coming off as uncaring even if his heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, trying to think of what to do from here on out. “So?” Tom retorted, giving him a humored look, as if he had won, backing Harry into some figurative corner. “You’re obviously not Charlus, and if you do not say who you truly are, this will soon become a problem.”
Harry’s eyes sharpened, obviously not like the connotation of that. He didn’t need Tom Riddle trying to kill him now. Although he had wanted to die, he didn’t intend for that to be his main ending. He had the experience of knowing how the future would play out, and if Harry used his chance to change it to simply die, then it would have been a waste of all the effort to get here.
“What do you want to know?” Harry beckoned, tilting his head in question. If he knew one thing, he knew that Tom Riddle probably had too many questions with Harry then he would willingly admit. He was a man of ego, and those types of men didn’t like to admit that they didn’t know as much as the person they opposed.
“I want to know how you got here,” Tom stated, “I want to know how you got through the wards of Malfoy Manor untraced, and your magical sensor just seamlessly appeared in the home without Abraxas being alerted.”
So that’s a bit more than Harry thought Tom knew. Wards could sense those types of things at this time? Even so, Harry had more information. He had been sensed, but was not an intruder per say in the wards minds. So if that had bled over from time traveling, maybe some other things had bled over too.
“I walked in,” Harry stated, knowing that to be a lie, and from how Tom’s eyes turned from gazing to glaring in the matter of seconds, he could tell the man knew that was false as well.
“The wards clearly show that you appeared in the office, the one that Abraxas uses,” Tom stated, easily giving away more intel in his moment of frustration. “Your magical trace was there, along with the time turner Abraxas owns.”
Oh the time turner. Harry had forgotten it in a lapse of amazement and jumbled nerves. He honestly had thought that the clunky time turner wouldn’t work when Draco handed it to him. Harry could barely feel any magic radiating off it when he had been holding it, cranking the levers, yet it had work, and Harry had discarded it onto the desk because it had broken and there was no way of fixing time magic like that.
“I will ask you though, who is Draco Malfoy?”
Harry’s blood ran cold. How did he know Draco’s name? Thoughts ran through Harry’s mind, all ending in terrible situations. This was information bleeding over with him now, not just magic. Draco’s name was now out in the open, plain to see, and Tom, if he was smart, which he was, likely had searched any loose end he could to find one Draco Lucius Malfoy in the family tree of the Malfoys, and it all ended in dead ends.
“How do you know that name?” Harry beckoned, now giving a show of his hand, which made Tom smirk. “It was on the time turner,” He answered, amusement in his eyes as he had found a crack in Harry, “The plaque on the bottom was different, not saying Abraxas, so it must belong to you, especially with such a reaction,” He mused, his smirk sharpening. “So you are a time traveler.”
This was bad. Tom knew, not everything, but enough to have some leverage now. He could likely surmise that Harry was from the future. Many things pointed to it. Harry’s strange appearance in the Manor. The stark likeness Harry had to Charlus Potter. His Magical Core being nothing like the man’s though, quite dark instead of light. The name changed on the time turner. And it being broken instead of working.
Harry’s quietness was enough of a response for Tom, the man taking it in strides. “So time traveler, who are you? You must be a Potter. I’ve never seen someone with those color eyes though,” Tom inspecting, feeling free to step into Harry’s house, the confidence of an overconfident man. “And that scar, it’s quite the interesting thing,” He stated, his hand reaching up to touch the marred skin, yet once he made contact both he and Harry flinched back, as if they had been burned.
Harry held back a pained groan, his hand coming up to quickly cover the scar, a pain he hadn’t felt since that night in the graveyard when Voldemort had been resurrected. It was head splitting, even if the touch only lasted a second, nothing more than a fleeting touch.
“What was that?!” Tom barked, his expression matching one of Harry’s. A haunted look lingering in his eyes although, likely never having experienced this pain before, even if he had already split his soul however many times at this point in his life. He didn’t know that one of those soul splits resided with Harry.
“Get out,” Harry said, his breathing heaving as he felt his body shake, always hating the feeling of connecting with Voldemort, but today had felt nothing akin to the times before it.
“What?” Tom retorted, his brows furrowing as he looked at Harry, but the man across from him only glared, snapping his holly wand into his grasp, pointing it at Tom, “Get out!”
Tom didn’t stay much longer, having felt a pain like no other, and he didn’t want to stay longer knowing that Harry could inflict such upon him without the need of a wand, but from this simple scar on his forehead.
He moved out, heading out of the Godrics Hollow house, apparating away with no problem, something Harry would need to fix with the wards.
But that was a problem for later. He felt like he had an intrusion upon him, the piece of Voldemort's soul supposedly being dead inside him, yet it felt like the piece of the man’s soul had only been awoken.
This was bad, and Harry had very little time to figure it out, suspecting Tom Riddle would return in the next few days to angrily consult Harry again.
First on his list of many things and very little time was fixing the wards, adding an alert for Tom’s magical signature, figuring out just how he was still somehow a living horcrux, then getting Tom Riddle out of his life once more.